ATHLETICS/Opinion: Ian O'Riordan on why the duplicity of long-distance runner Cathal Lombard leaves such a bad taste

When just over a year ago Cathal Lombard had become the new name in Irish distance running he was interviewed close to his offices of Arthur Cox, solicitors, in Dublin. In a quiet hotel, also on Earlsfort Terrace, he spoke at length about what he'd done to finally make the grade, and why after years of hard work and exhaustive training he'd suddenly come good. He was then 27 and had never won a national title.

Later in the interview the talk inevitably turned to the use of performance-enhancing drugs. Lombard clearly stated it was something an athlete just couldn't think about, just couldn't let bother him.

"Running for me is about personal fulfilment," he said, "and about testing yourself. And I do get great satisfaction out of running well."

Neatly dressed in a dark suit and with an obvious air of intelligence, the Corkman wasn't someone you would tend to distrust. Earlier in the conversation he'd talked about being a devoted student at St Colman's College in Midleton. During his college years in UCC running had always come second to his books and while qualifying with honours from Blackhall Place he was hardly running at all.

Now of course those particular words carry added resonance. Lombard was already, it seems, in the advanced stages of denial, harbouring a guilt that would last over a year and, until these past few days, remain unexposed.

On several occasions since, he had publicly maintained that state of denial.

In May he was quoted in Irish Runner magazine as saying, "there is no one on drugs in the distance-running world - I have seen no evidence of it anyway," and a month later went on the national airwaves to comment on the current level of testing: "I think we always need to concentrate our efforts on making it harder, making it tougher to get away with taking something."

Yet in terms of explaining why Lombard had in fact gone down the road of taking performance-enhancing drugs, coupled with his determination to deny it for so long, there is a lot to be taken from his references to the joy and satisfaction of running.

Anyone who has ever laced up a pair of running shoes and hit the road for an hour or so will know that running can easily become a drug of its own, the addiction based on that very personal satisfaction and self-fulfilment.

At some point then before Lombard ran 13 minutes 19.22 seconds for 5,000 metres in Belgium at the start of August last year he was no longer achieving that satisfaction. Throughout his early 20s he had trained progressively harder for diminishing returns.

In the summer of 2002 he ran his 10,000-metre best of 30:35.96 to finish second to Séamus Power in the national championships. That time earned him plenty of respect among his clubmates at Leevale but would have been laughed at on the international Grand Prix circuit.

But the same determination that saw Lombard easily qualify as a solicitor was still embedded in his approach to running. He wanted to be among the best, to be world-class, even though he clearly lacked some of the necessary talent.

His reluctance to accept that, it seems, led him to a new train of thought: that most of those world-class athletes were cheating and getting away with it; that erythropoietin (EPO) was the drug of choice among distance runners.

It was partly ego and partly naivety but Lombard made that fatal choice.

Without doubt the one voice that has risen above the chorus of melancholy these past few days has been that of Mark Carroll. In 1990 Carroll won the European junior 5,000 metres title and ever since has been a model of both commitment and hard work.

He's had his highs when winning bronze in the senior European championships in 1998 and gold in the European indoor championships over 3,000 metres four years ago. But he's had what he could easily claim to have been his unfair share of lows: mostly injury, but also the knowledge that he has sometimes been beaten by drug cheats. So was he tempted?

"That was the question I asked myself as far back as 1997, when I thought I might have to do this. And the answer was very simple. I just stopped and thought about my family, my club. There were enough reasons. And fundamentally I just thought it was wrong. Because if you stumble across a talent or a gift it's not something you should abuse."

Why Lombard did not stop and have the same thoughts only he knows - but before he competed at the World Championships in Paris last August, he said this: "I was so passionate and anxious to do well that I became blinded by the desperation to succeed."

As sad and shortsighted as it now seems, Lombard's selfish desire to be the best and not think about the consequences has left a trail of disgust and disappointment with his coach, and Irish athletics in general. It might not merit eight pages in a national newspaper but it's also been the biggest doping scandal in Irish sport, primarily because of its timing and also because he's admitted his guilt.

In his statement presented to Athletics Ireland yesterday, Lombard accepts that what he did was "very negative for the sport" and "I deeply regret that". He partly compensates by saying, "there are few who will stand up and acknowledge their mistakes."

He's already received some sympathy for coming clean, erroneously referred to as the first drugs cheat to do so. Ben Johnson and Kelli White and more recently David Millar all came clean, albeit as an afterthought. But guilt coupled with admission is still guilt.

Lombard knew all about the mistake he was making for at least the past year. One of the few questions that still surround his EPO use is when he actually started it. Yet by repeatedly hiding it, including to this correspondent as recently as last Monday week, he shouldn't be so easily forgiven.

Let him serve his two-year ban and if then he feels he still deserves his place in athletics he's entitled to another chance.

But he might well decide it is better to put his gifts to other uses.